Baise-moi
by Castello
Summary: "Do you think you'll remember this?" Jeremiah whispered into Oswald's ear, pressing in a fourth finger and thrusting hard enough to make Oswald tremble and the glasses on the table shake, "When you come here to work -when your clients come meet you- will you remember me fucking you into this table? Do you think they'd be able to smell just how horny remembering it makes you?"


**Fun fact, the art on this story (that little pic in the top left) is actually my own, drawn for another Jeremiah/Oswald story and my friend who is writing it. It's the only other Jeremiah/Oswald story I've seen and this fic is actually dedicated to her. rowenaaine on AO3 and her fic, Paying For It. I highly recommend!**

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Jeremiah hardly ever let himself take part in remenial pleasures-such as drinking with a colleague. It was trivial, and usually a rather dull experience. His... well, he _supposed_ you could call them co-workers, (they were all the criminals of Gotham after all) were dreadfully plain, boring and unrefined. He found no pleasure in talking with them most of the time, and even less when they tried uselessly to form some kind of alliance with him. As if a little alcohol would allow him to lower his standards to that extent.

Oswald however, was a different sort of creature.

Jeremiah found himself more intrigued than annoyed when Oswald Cobblepot sought him out. It was predictable, certainly, but he could admit he found the little wild spark of madness ever present in Oswald's eyes rather delightful, and as much as he tried to hide it behind positions of political power, Jeremiah could always find it when he looked. The curve of his nose was odd, erring on the side of unattractive for most, so Oswald combated it with tasteful suits and styled hair. His language was refined, but any time he was upset, he fell back into the mouth of a kid working under a mobster, coarse and rude.

Everything about Oswald Cobblepot was a contradiction, and sometimes it was interesting for Jeremiah to try and pick out where he balanced what.

Jeremiah did always enjoy solving puzzles, much like mazes.

"My friend," Jeremiah mused, the corner of lip upturning as he watched Oswald shift around across from him with a giggle, "I do believe you're slightly intoxicated."

"Why'rent you drunk?" Oswald huffed, and rolled around a little more to slide the empty glasses out of reach. "You've had more than me."

Jeremiah smirked, "I'm afraid that along with my cosmetic changes, I seem to have gained a fantastic tolerance for alcohol."

"Then have more." Oswald decided, nodding once before teetering over to lean against the other side of the booth.

"I believe I'm alright with what I have. There's no need to exhaust your supply."

Oswald chuckled, "I own the bar, that means I can drink whatever I want. Have more."

"You're definitely intoxicated, Penguin."

Oswald pouted, "I can't talk to you unless you're kinda drunk too-I'm only _kinda_ drunk."

As enearing as the birds little pout may have been, Jeremiah intended to keep his wits about him. He was good at this game, rejecting the business proposals of Gotham's other villains. He didn't need an alliance. He didn't need a partner to hold him back or give his well laid plans a sudden weakness.

And he most _certainly_ didn't need someone as unpredictable as Oswald Cobblepot.

"I'm fine."

"Fine." Oswald grumped, and leaned over his arms on the table.

Invited over for a drink in Oswald's bar, Jeremiah was certain this was going to be more of the same. Oswald would offer few refreshments, then an alliance, and he'd politely refuse. He prepared for some ill will after-there always was-and if he had to, he could kill the Penguin with the spring-loaded gun up his sleeve. Or the one strapped just above his ankle if he so wished.

"So, to what do I owe the pleasure of your invitation tonight, friend?"

Oswald snorted, "Don' call me friend if you don't mean it."

Jeremiah blinked, but inclined his head in understanding.

"Good."

"What do you want, Penguin?" he asked again, and tried not to think too much over the little grin he got in return for his honesty.

"I wanna make you an offer..."

Jeremiah sighed, and allowed himself to lean back against the booth cushion as he waited for the inevitable, "I am not interested in forming any alliances, Penguin. I am quite certain I've made this clear enough for everyone in Gotham. I don't require any partners."

Oswald grinned impishly, and Jeremiah found himself piquing with intrigue as he said, "I don't want an alliance either."

Jeremiah cocked his head, "Then by all means, please continue."

"I want..." Oswald started, and paused to lick his lips once, "to make a sort've... arrangement... that benefits both of us." and before Jeremiah could point out that it still sounded an awful lot like he wanted to form an alliance, Oswald added, "But I don't expect you to ever refrain from killing me if you wish, nor would I you. Our plans f'r the city are separate from it and... I expect nothing from you."

Jeremiah allowed himself to lean forward, but kept his expression neutral and hands sat gracefully over his thighs, "I'm listening."

Oswald's tongue darted out to wet his lips again, "Gotham is... a place that makes it difficult to uh... trust anyone. So I don't- _can't_ exactly... trust anyone to meet my needs."

"Your 'needs' being?"

Oswald hesitated once more, and drained the last of the whiskey from his glass with a grimace before finally answering, "...Sex."

Jeremiah tried to keep the surprise away from his futures, never having liked sharing when he was genuinely caught off guard. Instead he set his elbows on the table, chin propped up on his downturned palms and a carefully placed grin overshadowing his usually stoic expression, "So, you've invited me here to offer a relationship solely sexual in nature?"

Oswald nodded, staring into his empty glass and almost refusing to meet Jeremiah's eyes, "You're the only one I trust not to... uh... form an emotional attachment."

"But you also believe I wouldn't use such a... we'll say _sensitive_ position to take advantage of you? What if I took the opportunity to tie you to a bedpost and exploited all your assets?"

When he'd mentioned tying the man to a bedpost-or maybe it was the ' _assets_ '-Oswald's pupils had fractionally dilated, Jeremiah gazing over him like a hawk and unwilling to let any minute reaction slip his notice.

"Given your response, I'd take it you're not adverse to the idea."

"Of you stealing from me?"

"Of my tying you down in bed."

Oswald flushed, and Jeremiah watched his adam's apple bob once even as he tried to hide his reaction. "I may not be... _entirely_ adverse to it..."

"You sound a lot more sober than you did a few mere minutes ago, my dear Penguin."

Oswald blinked a few times before jostling himself out of whatever rabbit hole his brain had been exploring, "The topic of conversation is rather stimulating."

"Sex generally tends to be." he said simply, and Jeremiah liked the way Oswald sucked in a breath far too much, "I'll admit, I've never quite received an offer like this. Once again, I'll ask how you plan to keep me from taking advantage of you."

"I wouldn't give you the chance." Oswald replied, and Jeremiah grinned in spite of himself, "We would meet at a mutually unmeaningful location and keep from bringing along anything... sensitive." he said, echoing Jeremiah's previous word for the situation.

"And if I simply chose to torture you by means of sex or its denial?"

A little groan slipped out of Oswald's mouth, and Jeremiah decided that even if he sounded more lucid, Oswald's inhibitions had still definitely been lowered by the alcohol.

Oswald cleared his throat, "Are you trying to get me to take back my offer, or goading me into begging for it?"

Jeremiah smirked, sinful and promising as he weighed the honesty Oswald offered him with those words, "So you enjoy bondage _and_ sexual torture, that's certainly promising. As for begging..." he began, trailing off intentionally to watch Oswald wait on the rest with baited breath, "I'm _certain_ I could arrange that."

Oswald shivered and Jeremiah found himself absolutely delighted by it.

"You sound like you're planning to agree."

"Ah, but we haven't finished discussing the terms, my friend." Jeremiah replied, and finally let his hands fall from beneath his chin. One hand darted out across the table with cobra striking speed, firmly grasping Oswald's throat, _catching his prey_ . The bird had made the mistake of leaning too far in, letting his guard down, and Jeremiah wanted to point it out more than anything else, "What if I took the opportunity to kill you in your moment of defenselessness?"

When Jeremiah grabbed Oswald, two men had gotten up from their seats on the other side of the bar, guns raised and pointed at Jeremiah. Oswald waved a hand to them now, and they stood down. Jeremiah eyed him with fiendish curiosity for the action, wondering why he'd allowed the hand around his throat before Jeremiah _saw it_...

Oswald's eyes slowly fluttered shut and he sighed before barely pressing further into Jeremiah's hand.

Jeremiah loosened his grip immediately, but left his hand where it was, allowing his thumb to softly stroke the line of his throat as he grinned, "This is also a turn on for you, then?" he chuckled lowly, "I should have guessed it."

"You have no reason to kill me," Oswald said, eyes lazily opening again, "and for now, I don't intend to give you one."

"And if I decided to end your life merely for the fun of it?" Jeremiah questioned, and squeezed Oswald's throat fractionally in point, "Or just to watch the life drain out from your pretty eyes?"

Oswald gasped, but didn't call over his men, "I suppose I will just have to hope... that you enjoy the pleasure of our arrangement more."

Jeremiah released him slowly, and listened gleefully to the disappointed sound Oswald made when he took his hand away, "It's certainly brave of you to suggest something like this."

"You don't have to give me an answer tonight." Oswald said hurriedly, like he was afraid Jeremiah was planning to reject him right then and there, "I expect you'll need some time..."

"On the contrary," Jeremiah simpered, "I believe I've already decided. I'm interested." he let a small smile twitch over his lips, "In fact, I'd like to deal with our mutual _interests_ right now, if given the pleasure." and gestured down towards the growing bulge in Oswald's lap.

Oswald, for his part, turned an absolutely endearing shade of red, and Jeremiah wanted to chase the color down Oswald's neck with his teeth-see just how far down it went.

"You want to..? _Now_?"

"Why not? Call it: the sealing of our deal here tonight."

Oswald cleared his throat and nodded over at the goons still sitting across the bar. Wordlessly they stood, gave their boss one last wary glance, and left them alone.

Jeremiah leered, and slipped out of his seat, "You were prepared for this, weren't you?"

He pulled Oswald out of his own side of the booth, pleased to see him wordlessly staring at the rather sizeable tent in the front of Jeremiah's pants. Poor little bird hadn't quite realized the real _mass_ of what he was asking for. Oswald gaped up at him, a surprised noise jumping out from his mouth when Jeremiah hauled him up onto to the table of their booth without so much as a labored breath.

" _Oh_."

"I am quite a bit stronger than I appear." he said offhandedly, with only the slightest hint of a grin, and set to work unbuttoning his suit jacket.

Once Oswald caught up, he followed by example, licking his lips at the sight of Jeremiah undressing before hurriedly tugging off his own clothes.

"Suits will have to be something we agree not to wear any time we set to meet." Jeremiah said as he finally got down to the third layer of his tops, "It takes _far_ too long to disrobe."

"I'd say you sound eager, but I might rip something in my hurry to get the rest of that off of you." Oswald admitted with a look of mischeif, and reached over to tug Jeremiah's dress shirt up from his pants, his own hanging open and showing off the pale skin that made up his chest.

"If you ruin any of my clothes, I may have to punish you."

"Promise?" Oswald smiled, and pulled Jeremiah closer by his belt, slotting him in right between Oswald's open thighs.

One could argue, _right where he belonged._

Jeremiah draped his shirt over the rest of his clothes, a small pile of his discarded garments forming on the booth he'd sat in, whereas Oswald's were splayed around messily over the tabletop. "You're a filthy thing, aren't you?" he speculated, "Your manners and your words convey it rather pointedly."

"I know what I like."

"So you came to me?" Jeremiah mused, dipping forward to nip at the underside of Oswald's jaw as he hastily worked his own belt loose. "...Interesting."

Jeremiah prided himself of his ever-calm composure, it always kept his mind rational and his actions squared and unpredictable to others... with the added bonus of irritating his opponents. It would never _not_ be absolutely delightful to watch an adversary lose his composure while Jeremiah kept his own; and when his opponent lost their cool, they made mistakes. His eerily calm demeanor was his claim to fame really, but Jeremiah found himself losing grip of that infamous manner as he listened to Oswald Cobblepot moan. Jeremiah watched him yank his pants down, _completely naked atop a bar table,_ and all for his benefit.

Jeremiah impatiently snapped the belt away from the loops of his pants and tugged Oswald's hands away from his shoulders to hold between them. He wasted no time in looping the leather around Cobblepot's wrists, slipping the end back into the buckle to tighten it once he was satisfied and listening to Oswald's pleased groan in return.

"I deduced you wouldn't be opposed to this." he smirked, and forced Oswald's bound wrists over his head and against the tabletop.

Oswald simpered, "Am I that easy to read?"

"You came to _me_ for this," Jeremiah replied, using the hand not restraining Oswald to fish an ice cube out of an abandoned glass. "I think we can safely assume that you don't want to be the one in control here."

Oswald huffed, but watched Jeremiah and the ice cube curiously, "What are you going to do with _that_?"

Jeremiah leered as he touched the cool cube to Oswald's hip, letting his pointer finger lead the way across the man's delicate skin as he began his descent. Down, down, from his hip to the crack of his ass, leaving a cold, slippery trail in the wake of his finger's path. Oswald whined and Jeremiah hummed appreciatively, listening with a keen ear as he pressed the round of the cube against Oswald's pretty hole- and Oswald let out a _gapsy_ little desperate breath that simply enamored him.

His reactions were promising, and if Jeremiah wasn't feeling quite as impatient as he was then he might be tempted to linger a little longer, just see what other delicious sounds he could draw out of him... but he _was_ impatient. Foreplay would not be dragged out today, but perhaps another time.

"This." he smiled, the ruby red of his lips shining devilishly in the deliberate lighting of the club as he pushed it inside just a little.

Oswald tossed his head to the side, breathing into his shoulder with a sharp inhale, "It's _cold_."

"It's an ice cube, it would be cold."

Oswald grumbled out a daring, "Bastard." and Jeremiah slapped his thigh. "Ouch!"

"Consider that a warning."

The man groaned, wriggling a little in his bonds and deliberately testing Jeremiah's hold as he pushed the cube the rest of the way in, "You're going to hit me if I call you names?"

"I'm going to _punish_ you if you _disrespect_ me." Jeremiah corrected, and let his finger slide in to the first knuckle in accompaniment.

Oswald groaned, " _Cold._ You're way too good at this... I thought you would be more..."

"Stodgy?"

" _Clinical_."

He smirked, "I assure you Oswald, I take care of my toys. There's nothing _clinical_ about setting out to have a good time. It would rather defeat the purpose, wouldn't it?"

Jeremiah daringly pressed the finger deeper, sliding around to the side of the cube and pulling it back just a smidge. No sense in having it get lost up there, after all... He used the little bit of push as an excuse to shove the ice against Oswald's inner walls, noting the way he jerked a little in his bonds and his eyebrows rose. _He'd certainly felt it_. "Your reactions are promising."

"Stop acting so high and mighty and just-" he bit himself off to gasp when Jeremiah forced another finger in beside the first, made slightly easier by the water, but still finding some resistance, " _God_ , just get on with it, _please_."

"Patience." Jeremiah tutted, "Looking for me to fuck you while that cube is still fully formed?"

Oswald groaned, and Jeremiah laughed, " _Very_ kinky indeed. We can explore that after I've felt how it is to be inside of you. Maybe I'll put in more than one, then fuck them further into you."

"God, stop talking like that! I can't- I'll cum too soon and-"

"You will not." Jeremiah stated, ground out through his teeth before he removed his hand from Oswald's wrists to make a tight ring around the base of his cock, "Don't move your hands from where they are. You will cum only when you're told."

Oswald looked ready to cry or beg, possibly both, and Jeremiah would be perfectly fine with either. "Please- I can't- _fuck me_ already!"

Jeremiah sped up the force of his fingers, pushing in and out a few times before diligently adding a third, "I'm bigger than just three fingers, Oswald. It will hurt if you're not patient."

"I think you already know how I feel about pain." he retorted bitterly, hands curled into fists above his head, " _Please_ , Jeremiah."

"Tempting, but I won't have you bleeding the first time I fuck you."

Oswald eyed him, "The first time?"

"Something to be explored at a later date, most certainly. I'm eager to learn what exactly you can take. I'd love to run a knife across that perfect skin..."

" _Jesus_ ! I don't care if you tear me in half, fuck me now or I'll cum even with you holding me like that, I swear!"

"Do you think you'll remember this?" Jeremiah whispered into Oswald's ear, pressing in a fourth finger and thrusting hard enough to make Oswald tremble and the glasses on the table shake, "When you come here to work- _when your clients come meet you_ -will you remember me fucking you into this table? Do you think they'd be able to smell just how _horny_ remembering it makes you?"

"Damn it!" Oswald whimpered, throwing his head back and jerking his hips down hastily onto Jeremiah's fingers. "Stop-"

"Do my words turn you on, Oswald? Do you think you might cum merely from me _saying_ what I might do to you?"

"God, yes!" Oswald cried, a tear falling from the corner of his eye as he began to plead, "Please, Jeremiah! I need you to- to fuck me. I can't!"

Jeremiah finally took pity, deciding he was satisfied with how stretched and open Oswald had become, the ice cube melted away as well. He slipped his fingers free and reached down to unhook the buttons of his pants and unzip himself. He didn't bother with pushing them down or away, just pointed the head of his erection towards Oswald's greedy hole. "Brace yourself." he said, as a final warning, and pushed inside.

It was everything he had hoped for. The melted ice had gone lukewarm, but did nothing to hide the radiating heat that tried to engulf Jeremiah's cock, pressing against him and sucking him inside in a most welcome manner. Oswald whined, arching his back and consequently pulling Jeremiah further inside before he intended. " _Shit_."

"Oh my god..." Oswald gasped, and his arms began to shake, "You're so big... how in the hell..."

Jeremiah snorted, "Thank you."

"Shut up."

Jeremiah smacked the outer thigh of the leg rested against his hip and dug his nails in after making contact. Before Oswald could react, Jeremiah used the handful of captured flesh and twisted. The twist was slight, barely a centimeter, but it had the desired effect. The slap was intensified and held it's thud, the twist serving to ignite the skin and make it all the more sensitive. Oswald screamed and thrashed, tossing his head from side to side and dragging his hands down until they were nearer the top of his head, elbows up in the air to hide his face, "I'm sorry!" he bit, but groaned and writhed when Jeremiah released him.

"Even that, you liked?" he teased, and pulled his hips back in slight, just the head still buried past the rim, "How am I supposed to punish you if you enjoy it?"

" _Jeremiah_."

He slammed forward then, spurred on by his name, falling from those lips in a wrecked sound that lit every fire in Jeremiah's veins. He thrust in again and again, longing to hear more and willing to exert himself if necessary to do so. He'd reduce Oswald to a mumbling mess on this table, able only to chant Jeremiah's name over and over in broken cries.

"Again." he ordered, and adjusted his thrust to aim slightly upward, scraping right where he wanted within a few slams.

Oswald gasped, air knocked out of him and eyes rolling into his head, "Uggggh, Jeremiah..."

" _Again_."

"Jeremiah!"

He leaned forward, slipping his face between the walls of Oswald's raised elbows and biting down harshly on Oswald's lower lip. He didn't stop until he could taste the metallic tang of blood, and Oswald's responding whimper let Jeremiah know that he tasted it too-that it turned him on as well.

 _What a delightful beginning of a promising affair._

Jeremiah let up on the base of Oswald's straining cock, opting instead to move his fingers up and down the length in encouragement as he drew close himself. Cumming together was impractical, but if he timed it right, watching Oswald come undone beneath him _could_ be the delicious image that put him over the edge. He trailed a success of sharp little bites from Oswald's lips to his ear, whispering huskily into its shell, "Cum, Oswald."

It took a few more seconds, but Oswald went silent beneath him, mouth parted in a quiet cry and muscles going tight as he stilled.

Jeremiah felt the warmth of his orgasm cover his fingers, tempted still to push this magnificent find even further and shove his cum covered fingers into Oswald's mouth, see how well he took them... but he was too occupied with those bruised lips already. Jeremiah kissed with a brutish force, biting and fighting throughout the whole of it and asserting his position even after Oswald had given up and submitted to him.

It wasn't long after that Jeremiah came himself, the sights, feelings and _smell_ _of them_ dragging him over with an insistent tug, and over he went. His hips sputtered in their previously consistent rhythm, his brows skewing into a furrow as he let himself go deep inside of Oswald with a low, rumbling groan.

Oswald grinned, lazy and high before letting his bound wrists fall around the back of Jeremiah's neck, "I knew I was right to pick you."

"Ah," Jeremiah huffed, forcing himself to pull his cheek off of Oswald's sweat-glistening chest somewhat tiredly, peering up at him, "That is something else we should discuss."

Oswald frowned and tried not to be startled out of his afterglow, "What-" he panted, a little out of breath, "what is?"

"I don't share my toys, Oswald." he said simply, lifting a hand to slick back his unkempt hair, "If you wish to continue this... arrangement, I would require you to stay away from anyone else you might have considered for this position."

"Didn't even consider anyone else..." Oswald huffed, shoulders relaxing after Jeremiah had said what was on his mind, "And... I think I like that you're the possessive type."

"I'm not _possessive_." Jeremiah chided, but craned his neck to bite at Oswald's neck until he squirmed, "I am, however, _extremely_ territorial."

Oswald smirked, "Okay. No sleeping with anyone else, got it. Any other rules of arrangement?"

"Next time," he huffed, letting his hand roam to where they were still connected, finger teasing at the rim along side his own girth until Oswald wriggled with a gasp, "bring an edible form of lube."


End file.
